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BooksForABuck.com

January 2011

ISBN: 978-1-60215-139-0

Dear Reader,

I wrote two original novels set in fictional Scottsville, Texas for the Precious Gems
line, available only in Wal-Mart stores. Now that Kensington has graciously reverted the
rights to these novels back to me, I'm proud to make them available in digital format.

The first novel is titled First Love, Last Love. They aren't written as a series, but you
may want to read about the town, places of interest and secondary characters in both
books.

I can't let you go without telling you a humorous story about Scottsville, Texas. I picked
the name after looking on a map of the area and also checking the Texas zip code
directory to make sure there wasn't a real place by that name. (This was before the
Google search engine!) Then, after the first book came out, I was driving back to Dallas
from a writers' conference in Shreveport, Louisiana when I saw a sign on Interstate 20
for Scottsville, Texas. I thought perhaps I was in the Twilight Zone! It turns out that
Scottsville used to be a town, but all that's there now is a large cemetery and a
combination gas station and convenience store at a crossroads. I was sure glad I hadn't
picked a real, existing town to write about because that would have been confusing to
those who know the area!

Thank you for choosing Courting Mandy. I hope you enjoy reading about the
librarian-trying-to-be-good and the bad boy who tempts her to let down her hair.

Best wishes, Victoria Chancellor

CHAPTER ONE

Mandy Thompson balanced a stack of books on her hip while reaching for the phone.
She hadn't hooked up an answering machine at the temporary library yet, and whoever
was trying to reach her was letting the number ring, and ring, and ring...

"Hello," she answered breathlessly, setting the children's books down on an unopened
box of paperback donations.

"Mandy, dear, I'm so glad we reached you," Millicent Gardner said in her singsong,
sweeter-than-pie voice. "Greta told me to call when he first left, but I got another phone
call from--"

"Before who left, Millicent?"

"Oh, our nephew. He's on his way over to see you, riding that new bike of his. You
remember the pledge we made to the library building fund? Well, he's coming by with the
check."

"Oh, that's great, Millicent. Thank you, and please thank Greta for me also." Mandy
craned her neck to look out the front windows of the former bookstore. She didn't see any
children approaching, but the boy would probably be here any minute. Greta and
Millicent didn't live too far away.

"We're really pleased that you've taken on this project, Mandy. Scottsville needs a new
library, but that awful fire was a bad way to get one."

"Yes, I know." As Mandy searched for the Gardner sisters' nephew, she saw something
quite out of place in Scottsville. Quite unusual for any small, East Texas town. Quite...
interesting.

"I need to go, Mandy. Greta is looking for the remote control, and you know how
grouchy she can be when she can't find something."

Mandy knew no such thing, but absently agreed as she said good-bye and hung up the
phone. Or at least she though she'd said good-bye. Her attention was so riveted by the
man outside the window that she wasn't real sure.

Dressed in a black leather jacket, his hair windblown, his angular face shadowed by at
least a few day's stubble of beard, he looked like something from a Harley-Davidson
poster. Falling yellow and orange leaves swirled around him as sunlight filtered through
the pine trees and gilded him in gold. He straddled the massive bike like a knight of old
sat his trusty warhorse. Even more than thirty feet away, through a closed door and a
plate glass window, Mandy felt the vibrations of the powerful machine as it idled in the
autumn afternoon.

Why was he stopped there so long? Granted, the intersection boasted one of Scottsville's
few four-way stops, but there was little traffic this late in the afternoon on Sunday. Most
people were either getting ready for evening church services or eating dinner with their
families.

He ran a hand through his dark, already tousled hair. Mandy's pulse rose a few beats
as she watched him take a deep breath. His white T-shirt molded to a broad chest and a
flat, muscular abdomen. She swallowed a lump in her throat as her gaze roamed down
his long, jeans-clad legs to the black boots that were braced arrogantly on the pavement.

Definitely advertising material. Mandy tore her gaze from the man for just a moment to
make sure a camera and crew weren't filming the very sexy, very bad boy on the
gleaming motorcycle.

Nope. Not another soul around. He must be lost. Maybe he needed directions. Maybe she
should stick her head out the door and ask if he needed help. After all, that would be the
neighborly thing to do.

As if a small-town librarian was the type of "neighbor" this bad boy would find
interesting.

With a sigh, Mandy realized she'd allowed herself to get distracted again. Darn it. She'd
come to Scottsville to avoid this sort of thing. She couldn't allow herself to give in to her
weakness.

She turned away from the window and retrieved the stack of books, hoping the stranger
found his way out of town before she was tempted to walk outside, throw her leg over the
big chrome machine, and ride out of town with the dangerous bad boy.

Besides, she had to get these books sorted into early readers and picture books. Some
of the people who had packed the salvaged books after the fire in the old library hadn't
been too particular about which books they'd thrown in the boxes.

And the Gardner sisters' nephew was on his way over with a donation for the new
library. Watching the town's upstanding librarian riding off on the back of a motorcycle
would not be a good sight for a young boy to see.

Perhaps the boy would like to borrow a few of the books while he was in town visiting
his aunts. Mandy didn't know the Gardner sisters real well, but who could be unaware of
two of the town's most recognized citizens? She'd realized early on that the elderly
women cared deeply about this town. They also baked absolutely wonderful cookies,
muffins, and rolls in their bakery on the square.

This nephew must be their great nephew. Surely they didn't have siblings young enough
to have a child. Unless, of course, a brother had married a much younger woman. That
would explain...

A blast of crisp autumn wind blew through the temporary library, startling Mandy out
of her contemplation. She turned, a smile on her face as she anticipating meeting the
Gardner nephew.

The bad boy standing in front of her didn't resemble a child in the least. All black
leather, tight jeans, and lean, muscular male, he was far too dangerous for her peace of
mind, far too tempting for any mortal woman. He definitely wasn't from around here. Her
eyes widened as a slow smile creased his lean, stubbled cheeks.

"Hi," he said in a deep, sexy voice that vibrated through her just like the throbbing of his
big motorcycle. "You must be the new librarian."

"Yes," she managed to say, blinking her eyes when she realized she'd been staring. "Yes,
but how did you know...?"

He reached inside his black leather jacket and pulled out an envelope. "There aren't too
many secrets in a small town." He grinned, probably at the confused look on her face.
"I'm Case Gardner, Greta and Millicent's nephew, in town for a visit, and I sure am glad
to meet you, Miss Mandy Thompson."

* * * *

Case had figured his aunts were up to something when they insisted he take their
Scottsville Public Library building fund donation to the new librarian before he'd
finished unpacking. He just hadn't figured on his own interest in the new librarian Greta
and Millicent had raved about.

Mandy Thompson was attractive, but she sure went out of her way to downplay her big
brown eyes, shiny hair, and slim figure. Dressed in rather baggy chinos and a rust-colored sweater, she appeared awfully young to be hidden away in a library. Her brown
hair held a hint of red highlights. Since she'd secured it in a low ponytail, he couldn't tell
how the strands would feel when he ran his fingers through them. But her skin... she had
a creamy, ivory complexion he longed to touch.

"You're the nephew?" she asked, her eyes round with surprise, her right arm holding
several oversize children's books in front of her like a shield.

"The one and only," he replied, hoping she wasn't going to be this nervous or confused
around him for the rest of his stay in town. He loved libraries, especially small, cozy ones
run by single, attractive librarians.

"I was expecting someone a little... younger," she said as she held out her hand for the
envelope he'd offered.

Case chuckled and shook his head. "That's just like my aunts. They aren't real good on
details." He passed the donation to her, wishing he could get a little closer without
frightening her. He supposed he did look disreputable, with his black leather jacket,
motorcycle boots, and three-days growth of beard.

"I just got into town this afternoon, but they insisted I come by right away. Something
about forgetting to bring the donation to the last meeting of the Friends of the Library."

"Yes, well, I'm glad you came by." She shifted the books closer to her chest, tilting her
chin up ever so slightly. At the moment, she looked more like a prissy schoolmarm than a
modern librarian.

"Need any help?" he asked, hooking his hands in his back pockets so he wouldn't be
tempted to reach out and pry those picture books out of her white-knuckled grip.

"No!" She said the word so quickly, so emphatically, that a less persistent man might be
tempted to walk out and dismiss any hopes of courting Miss Mandy Thompson. But she
gave off a host of clues he couldn't ignore, and he was one man who couldn't ignore a
good mystery.

He was just about to offer again when he noticed her gaze drifting southward, roaming
over him with the sensation of a dozen soft feathers. Her eyes seemed to memorize him.
As a matter of fact, he felt darn near consumed by her hot look. The image caused an
entirely predictable reaction, which he tried to hide by shifting his weight and unhooking
his hands from his back pockets.

She turned guilty eyes upward, meeting his gaze with a startled one of her own. A
delicate peach blush lit up that ivory skin, making Case think of rosy dawns and rumpled
sheets.

"On second thought, I'd better get back to the house. Greta might need some help."

"My pleasure," he said with a slow smile he couldn't hold back even if he'd wanted to.
Which he didn't. He hoped to cause her just a fraction of the discomfort she's inflicted on
him with those ravaging eyes of hers.

She threw her other arm around the books and hugged them to the center of her chest.
Case was certain her breasts were squished flat against her ribs.

"Please thank your aunts for me. We can use all the donations we can get."

"Really? Well, I'll just see what I can do to help."

She opened her mouth to speak. Case had the feeling she was about to say "no" again,
but thought better of being so hasty or rude. Not that he'd take offense. He found her
reaction to him just one more tantalizing clue to the mystery of Mandy Thompson, small
town librarian.

She offered a weak smile as she backed up, almost tripping over a box. Case took that
as his clue to leave. No sense in making her fall all over herself. She already seemed
nervous enough around him.

"Have a nice visit in Scottsville."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll be seeing you again. You see, I'm going to be here for a while. With
Greta's broken ankle and Millicent's--well, let's just call it her lack of business sense--I've got my work cut out for me."

"Work?"

"Yes. This isn't just a weekend stay. You see, I'm going to be helping out in the bakery
until Greta is up and around again." Case grinned at Mandy's dumbstruck expression.
"Since both my aunts told me you're a regular customer, I'm sure I'll see you often."

"You're going to bake?"

"Now don't be so skeptical. I've worn many hats in my lifetime. I think I can manage
to stir up some flour and sugar and whatever else. And I know how to make change and
smile at the customers. What else do I need to know?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. I've never worked in a bakery."

"Neither have I, but there's a first time for everything."

"And a last time."

Case shrugged. "Maybe I'll be a really great baker. I might have a new career."

Mandy looked even more dubious about that idea. "Then I wish you luck, Mr. Gardner,
because I'm sure there's more to running the bakery than you might imagine."

"Please, call me Case."

She nodded, clutching the books even tighter. He noticed she didn't invite him to call her
Mandy, but then, he didn't feel he needed an invitation.

"I'm an optimist," he explained to her earlier comment about the rigors of running a
bakery. "I'm looking at this as an adventure."

She shuddered, but her eyes seemed bright with excitement. "You probably have lots of
those."

"As many as I can. Haven't you heard? Life is short."

"So are some people's memories."

Case chuckled and shook his head. "I can tell you're a cynic. I think maybe you've been
working too hard."

"Yes, and speaking of that..."

"Okay, I can take a hint," he said with a smile. If he'd been wearing a cowboy hat, he
would have tipped it as he headed for the door. But today, he was a biker, even if he was
in Texas. "Good afternoon, Mandy Thompson," he said, unable to keep the humor out of
his voice as he took one last look at her confounded expression.

She didn't look like a cynic when she devoured him with her big, expressive brown eyes.
More like she was optimistic about getting to know him better even as she told herself
she shouldn't.

He walked down the three steps to the cracked concrete sidewalk leading from the
street to the temporary library. The crisp autumn air felt good against his heated skin. If
he'd looked in a mirror, he'd bet he appeared as flushed as the woman inside.

Of course, he thought, running a hand over his scratchy cheeks, she probably hadn't
noticed since he was a bit grubby to begin with. First thing on his agenda after he
finished unpacking was a long, hot shower and a shave. He might not live a totally
conventional life, but he did have some pretty high standards. One of them dictated
cleanliness whenever possible. Another one said he never let a good mystery go
unsolved. He had a feeling that once he looked a bit more presentable, he'd make a lot
more headway with the other.

Smiling into the lengthening shadows of afternoon, he dug his keys out of his front
pocket and swung his leg over his new Harley. He turned the key and the bike roared to
life with a pulsing rhythm Case found intoxicating. He'd have to get Miss Mandy on this
monster machine, he thought as he kicked off the stand and pulled away from the curb.
She'd probably crush him to her in the same way she'd held those books. He could
almost feel her breasts pressed tightly against his back.

Shifting in the seat, he revised his earlier plan. Perhaps a short, hot shower to get the road
dirt off, followed by a long, cold one to get his mind off the small-town librarian who had
caught his interest as surely as a Casey Flannigan novel.

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